


You've Got a Filthy Mouth On You, Slugger

by negickapologist (neganstonguething)



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead: A New Frontier - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fingering, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot, Poor David, Porn Without Plot, Smut, a new ship is born, javier being indulgent, negan being a pervert, shamelessly self indulgent porn without plot at that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 07:33:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12930507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neganstonguething/pseuds/negickapologist
Summary: Negan finds himself at the mercy of Rick and his people when he and a few Saviors are checking new routes. When everyone scatters, he retreats to a nearby lookout, and it turns out he's not the only one looking to hide there.Shameless crack!smut!fic prompted by one of the few fellow Javigan shippers I know.





	You've Got a Filthy Mouth On You, Slugger

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, this is interesting, right?
> 
> But let me tell you, it's a slippery slope. Whether you're someone who apparently enjoys this ship too, or you're reading just because you've read my other works, I can tell you, I fucking LOVE this crackship. One day, I'll probably write something chaptered with lots of character-building. I just...I can't escape. I'm in Javigan Hell.
> 
> Either way, enjoy! When I wrote it, I was picturing the plotline of the show (I won't spoil it if you aren't caught up), so I was going with show Negan. But there honestly aren't any indicators that he's solely show Negan, so if comic Negan is your dude, picture him! Just enjoy the fucking wonders of this pairing with me, y'all.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, fucking goddamned shitbiscuits and fucking shitgravy.

This hurts. A lot. Way too goddamned much.

Negan hobbles weakly into the tiny metal shelter he’s managed to find amidst a now-subsiding chaos. It’s a single room, probably about the size of a small bedroom, but the accommodations are anything other than that. The floor is concrete, with thick aluminum walls serving as protection from the outside world. There’s a single window in the back of the room, giving access to just enough light for Negan to see a flattened-out futon against the far wall and a couple of chairs nearby. An assault rifle and a few clips rest on the ground next to the futon, and Negan assumes it’s because this place is a lookout. He doesn’t recall having a post here for his Saviors, so this must belong to someone else.

Well, too fucking bad. They’re not here right now and Negan needs a place to rest and figure out what he’s going to do about his goddamn leg.

Negan plops down onto the futon, drops Lucille on it next to him, and hefts his leg up onto the worn cushions. He yanks his pants out of his boots and tugs them up until they’re just past his knee. He’s bleeding way too goddamn much, and he knows he needs to do something about that. There’s a gunshot wound that has gone clean through the upper part of his calf, leaving an entrance and an exit wound. At least he shouldn’t have to worry too much about digging bullet shards out.

He does need to clean it, though. Too bad he doesn’t walk around with a fucking first aid kit in his back pocket.

Fucking _Rick_. Rick and his widow and his king and all their little douche canoe buddies. Negan doesn’t know how they found him so close to Richmond, but they did. And now, because of their stupidity, Negan is down about twenty men and suffering a bullet wound to the leg. His men managed to pick a few of their attackers off before everything went to shit, and now both parties have scattered.

And Negan is stuck in this shack until he figures out the next step to take. The best part is that they weren’t planning on doing anything too crazy tonight. Just a little roam of the land, to see what their options were. Apparently, someone had tipped Rick and his gang off as to the situation.

Goddamn it.

He shrugs out of his jacket and moves to slip his shirt off, just as the metal door comes open again. On instinct, Negan snatches the assault rifle up and points it directly at his new visitor.

Initially, the visitor doesn’t realize the room isn’t empty. It’s the click of Negan’s newfound gun that alerts him to the other presence.

The man doesn’t look familiar. He’s probably in his twenties, with a blue and white baseball jersey on and a bloody metal bat clutched in one hand. Atop his head is a mop of fluffy, dark brown hair, and Negan can’t tell, but he thinks the guy has brown eyes. He’s panting, and now, he’s gawking at Negan.

The man instantly doesn’t seem like he means any harm. Judging by the blood splattering his clothing, he’s likely just trying to find refuge as well. He looks frustrated and maybe a little distressed, and Negan observes in a moment of weakness that the guy looks so good that he could wear just about any emotion well.

Negan watches this man’s eyes drift down past the barrel of the gun pointed at him, to the injured leg Negan has propped up on the bed. He frowns.

“You’re losing a lot of blood,” the man states plainly.

Negan drops his gun back down to the concrete floor and slumps up against the nearby wall. “Really? I hadn’t fucking noticed.” He returns to the task of stripping his shirt off, and then ties the article around his injured leg just as tightly as he can. Thankfully, the wounds aren’t big, so this should staunch the bleeding for now.

The man’s expression tells Negan he hasn’t taken offense to the retort. Negan can feel the curiosity in his stare as he tries to figure out the man he’s looking at. When he doesn’t say anything, Negan clears his throat.

“…This your place?” He asks. The aluminum wall is cold against his bare back, but it’s almost soothing in contrast to the heat and pain emanating from his leg.

“No,” the man answers. “It’s my brother’s lookout. I live a little ways out from here. Came out because you guys were making all this noise and shooting people, so I had to check and see if my brother was alright.”

Negan shrugs. “Dunno if he’s alright, kid. This place was empty when I found it. Not so much as a goddamn cockroach.”

The man takes a seat on the nearest chair—about a yard away from Negan’s spot on the futon.

“Yeah, there’s no telling with him,” he responds. Negan notices he doesn’t look too worried. Either he’s got ample faith in his brother or he doesn’t care much. Negan doesn’t give a shit either way. “He has a tendency to go off and do whatever the fuck he wants anyway. Odd that he didn’t take his gun, though.”

“Not really,” Negan answers back dully. “If the guy has his own lookout and he’s not already dead, he’s either real fucking stupid or he’s got more than just one gun.”

The man smiles, a serene and thoughtful sort of smile that Negan finds is difficult to look away from. He’s pretty, with his soft, layered hair, full lips, and pronounced jaw. Briefly, Negan wonders how wide that jaw can get.

“He’s a soldier first and a man after,” the guy responds pensively. “A pain in my ass, though, and he’s actually supposed to be the _older_ brother.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised you’re the younger one,” Negan muses with a smirk. “You got jailbait baby brother written all over you.”

Not surprisingly, the man doesn’t know what to think about that. He gapes at Negan. “…The fuck would _you_ know about that?”

“Absolutely fucking nothing, actually.” Negan outright laughs. “I was teasing you, Babyface.”

“Jesus, you say some dumb shit.” The guy’s halfway glaring across the space between himself and Negan. “Let’s just up and get one thing straight, asshole. It’s Javier Garcia, and I’ll deck you the next time you call me Babyface. You can call me Javi if my full name is too many letters for you.”

Negan’s eyebrows fly up in surprise. “…I like you, kid.”

“I don’t know what I think about you, old man.” Javi still looks a little bit miffed.

“Old man…not a low fucking blow, Javi,” Negan thinks aloud around his trademark grin. “Just means I’m a wise motherfucker. And believe-you-me, buddy, I know some shit.”

Javier just props his bat up against his chair and crosses his arms. “…Who are you, anyway?”

Negan’s smirk hasn’t left his lips. “You’d have met me eventually, anyway. I’m Negan. Myself and a whole metric fuckton of people who are _also_ Negan would have introduced ourselves to you at some point.”

Javi’s eyes narrow when the name registers in his mind. “I know you. You’re the asshole who thinks he can take whatever he wants from other communities. Guess I just never got to see a picture of your smug face.”

Negan doesn’t take offense. This honestly isn’t the first time someone’s tried to pop off with something like this. When you’ve got to be the leader, you’re going to make some enemies. Javier Garcia isn’t the first of them. And honestly, Negan isn’t getting the enemy vibe from him. Javi has yet to reach for his bat, and while Negan now spots a gun, he also notices it’s still resting comfortably in the holster around the man’s waist.

“You like what you see?” Negan teases, and Javier scoffs.

“Doesn’t matter,” he answers, arms still crossed. “You can be as good-looking as you want, but you’re still a raging limp-dick if you take into account what you’ve done. And for the record,” Negan watches those definitely-brown eyes go wide in a fierce, threatening sort of way, “if you so much as come near my people, I’ll fucking kill you. We’ve been through more than enough as it is.”

Negan raises an eyebrow. “And who are your people, Javier?”

Another scoff. “If you think I’m stupid enough to tell you that, you’re not as smart as your people give you credit for.”

Silence falls over the darkened room there. The wind howls, and the aluminum walls creak and quiver. This shack can’t be fun to live in all the time. It feels drafty as hell. And with no shirt on, Negan’s not particularly enjoying it.

“Besides,” Javi breaks the silence, “you should worry more about your leg and less about who you’re going to subjugate next. You might not be bleeding out anymore, but if it gets infected, that’s it. No more Mister Big Badass walking around with his dick out.”

Negan feels his smirk fade a little. He keeps his gaze trained on Javier. “…Yeah? Why not just kill me right now, then? I’m _clearly_ at a disadvantage.” He motions with both hands to the injured leg he has bound with his own T-shirt.

“Because that’s not the way I like to do things anymore,” Javi answers, arms still crossed. “If you give me a reason to, I will, but you haven’t done anything to me or my people yet.”

Negan breaks into a fit of low, menacing laughter. He turns his gaze away and lets his eyes fall shut. “That, kiddo, is the stupidest shit I’ve heard come out of your fucking mouth thus far. Here the threat is, sitting on his ass half naked on a futon, stuck waiting by himself until his people regroup and come back for him, and you’re going to sit here and babysit him instead of get rid of him before he becomes a problem to you and your people.”

“ _Are_ you going to become a problem?” Javi asks simply, and this draws Negan’s attention back to him.

“I dunno,” Negan answers with a shrug. “I don’t even know where you guys come from. Don’t go fucking around in my business and I think we should be gravy…for now.” He follows his words with a taunting smirk.

“Then I’ve got no reason to kill you…for now,” Javi taunts back.

Negan sighs and shifts down into a more comfortable position on the futon. He contemplates sliding his jacket back on, but instead settles for the ratty comforter off to the side of the lumpy mattress, pulling it over his naked chest. When Negan rests his head on the pillow, he notices that at least _it_ has some level of comfort to it.

A few minutes pass, before he cracks one eye open and turns his head to look at Javi. The man hasn’t moved from the chair.

“…You can go now,” Negan points out.

Javi just shrugs. “I’m waiting on my brother. I came out here to check on him, after all. Besides, you’re injured.”

Negan laughs out loud. “I thought we established that you don’t give a shit about me.”

“No,” Javier growls, “we established that I’m not going to kill you. I’ve got a friend who would be damn disappointed if I killed you all of a sudden for no reason. You’re still a person.”

“Oh,” Negan realizes aloud, “you’re one of _those_ guys. All head-over-heels for someone, fucking influenced by their straight-arrowed moral compass and supposedly mature view about everything. Most of these people haven’t been attacked by actual people. Has your guy?”

“Plenty of times,” Javier answers. “He told me about you. But that’s all you’re getting out of me about that. I won’t be having you retaliate against him for it.”

“Huh,” Negan scoffs, “people are talking shit about me, and you won’t even tell me who the goddamn gossip queen is. Some fucking friend you are, Javi…”

“When did we establish a friendship?” Javi questions dryly.

“Right around the time you decided you were going to stay here with me,” Negan answers.

Javi scoffs. “That…doesn’t exactly constitute a friendship, Negan.”

“Ouch,” Negan mocks offense. “So this is just a one-time thing, huh? Send me off to go be someone’s sloppy seconds…you fucking wound me.”

When silence falls over the room, Negan turns his attention back to Javier, only to see him gaping down at him in a mixture of shock and confusion. His arms are still crossed.

“How do you even _make_ that leap?” Javi finally manages.

Negan laughs. “In the way that I’m joking and you’re being too serious for your own goddamn good. Unless you actually wanted me to be serious about it…”

Again, Javi is speechless.

Negan sits upright, now laughing harder. “Oh my fucking god, you should see your face right now! All shocked because you think I want to jump your bones!”

“You’re the one running your mouth,” Javier retorts, standing up and balling his hands into fists. Negan notices how he doesn’t move to pick up his bat. “Kind of hard not to think the idea’s crossed your mind if you’re talking like that.”

Negan grins widely and points a finger in Javi’s direction. “Good point, Babyface. It’s because I _have_ thought about it. Have you ever fucking stopped to look at yourself in a mirror? Your face _screams_ ‘slap me with your dick, Negan!’ and I’d be stupid if I didn’t want to do just that a little.”

The first thing Negan notices is how expressive Javi’s face is when presented with something legitimately shocking. His eyes are wide and his mouth hanging half-open, and he looks like he’s just been handed a coconut and told he needs to try and open it with his teeth. Negan watches his throat bob as he swallows.

“You’re out of your damned mind,” Javi finally manages.

Negan just shrugs and moves to sit with his feet over the edge of the futon. His leg still aches something fierce, but it’s not so bad now that he’s given himself time to rest. “I’m not saying you have to do anything. But what else are either of us doing with our fucking time right now? I get to see what that mouth of yours can do, and you get a good dicking in the process. Win-win, Javier.”

“You want me to suck your dick and then let you screw me,” Javier clarifies.

“Sounds about right,” Negan answers. He’s never been one to wax subtle about anything. “Right here on this mattress. It’s not very comfortable, but rough sex is better anyway.”

Negan actually sees, even in the darkness of the room, as Javi genuinely ponders the offer that’s been made out to him. He thinks about it way too long for someone who hadn’t been at least somewhat on board, and when he finally speaks, it’s with a facetious little grin.

“That’s my brother’s bed,” He comments simply, and Negan knows exactly what he’s getting at.

“We’ll make it look _thoroughly_ fucked on, then.”

Negan shifts back onto the mattress once more as Javi moves closer to him. He follows those full thighs with his gaze as they come up to straddle his waist. Javi braces his hands against the wall behind Negan, and Negan gets to witness all the uncertainty melting away as they draw close. He sees the younger man worry his lower lip with his teeth and tongue, and then he sees those undeniably gorgeous brown eyes roam up and down Negan’s form. And then Javi leans in, and their mouths come together, and it’s all history from there.

The slow, curious kissing doesn’t last long. Soon, they’re making out shamelessly, lips and teeth and tongue and the scrape of beard stubble against beard stubble sending them both into a frenzied rush for more. Javi tips his head and closes his lips around a spot on Negan’s neck just below his jaw. He sucks hard as he runs his hands hungrily down over the man’s chest, and Negan gets to work fumbling with the shirts Javi is wearing.

“Goddamn, kid…” Negan moans when Javi’s lips shift down to the crook of his neck and shoulder. “You wear enough layers?”

“Says the guy with a leather jacket,” Javi replies against Negan’s skin, motioning with one hand toward the discarded jacket on the other side of the mattress. “The nineties called, Negan…”

“Don’t finish that fucking sentence,” Negan warns, though it’s around a laugh. “So, are you some big famous baseball star?”

“ _Was_ ,” Javi answers honestly as he works open Negan’s belt. “Stopped being one way before the world ended.”

Negan shifts his ass off the bed, then helps Javi push his pants down until his cock is freed from the confines. He hisses as the cool air surrounds him, and on instinct, reaches down to wrap his fingers around himself.

Javi sits back and watches Negan stroke his own erection for a moment. “Can you…move the barbed wire bat or something? Kind of hazardous, don’t you think?”

“Don’t be a fucking funsucker, Javier,” Negan scolds, though he releases himself long enough to place Lucille down on the ground next to the assault rifle. “Lucille just wanted to watch…”

“Lucille…you gave your bat a name?” Javier looks genuinely curious.

“Yeah…that’s the thing nowadays,” Negan retorts jokingly. “Surprised you didn’t name yours, being all into baseball and shit.”

“That’s not pretentious at all,” Javi quips, sounding just a little bit miffed. “Guess it’s only the ‘thing’ for self-righteous assholes like yourself.”

“You’re about to suck this self-righteous asshole’s dick, you know.”

Javi just rolls his eyes. “What can I say? Haven’t been laid in a while. It’s just casual sex.”

Negan likes how he doesn’t give him a chance to speak after that. How he curls his fingers around the base of Negan’s half-hard dick and sucks the tip of him between those full lips of his. Negan’s legs fall open to give Javi more room, and he reaches a hand down to place it atop that fluffy hair of his.

Soon enough, Negan’s hard as fuck in this guy’s mouth. Javi’s got his hips pinned down onto the mattress, but Negan’s so wrought with pleasure that he’s attempting to use his hand to push the other man further down onto him. No big deal, either way. It feels good as hell. Javi’s got this magnificent timing with his actions, between bobbing down and coming up with his tongue along the underside, sucking gently on the head, humming around him. He knows what he’s doing, and Negan knows what he’s _about_ to do if he doesn’t slow down.

“Easy there, Slugger,” Negan moans, curling his fingers around a clump of Javi’s hair and pulling him up off of him. “Any more and you’re going for the home fucking run.”

Javi scoffs out loud. “You did _not_ just use fucking baseball puns at me.”

“The moment called for it,” Negan teases back, licking his lips. “But the point is, you’re not gonna get laid if you don’t stop. How about you get off that bed and strip your clothes off for me?”

Javier hesitates, but eventually climbs off the bed. He’s glaring down at Negan, but Negan can also see the urge to keep going filling out in a hard line across the crotch of his jeans. The only sign that his clothes have even been tampered with is the short-sleeved jersey buttons being worked all the way open. Javi shrugs it off, and then pulls his undershirt up off his chest and over his head and shoulders, revealing an expanse of smooth, toned skin. Negan finds he really wants to put his mouth on that chest. How long it’s been since Javi last played baseball, Negan doesn’t know, but the man’s still got the abs to fucking prove it.

If Negan could get off slapping his dick on that hard chest, he probably would.

Either way, Javi isn’t making a show of it. He’s just stripping half-assedly, now focused on the task of unzipping his pants, his shoes kicked off somewhere on the ground.

“Oh, come the fuck on,” Negan groans, though it’s around a playful smirk. “At least do a twirl or some shit.”

“I’m not doing a striptease for you,” Javier says bluntly, rolling his eyes. “There isn’t even any music.”

“I can make music,” Negan responds quickly. Afterward, he raises both eyebrows, smirks, and starts whistling a tune that only he, his fellow Saviors, and those under his rule would recognize. It’s hardly the tune anyone would dance to, but it’s music, as promised.

Javier just stares him down. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” As if to punctuate his point, he lets his pants drop unceremoniously at his ankles, then steps out of them.

Negan notices how hard Javi already is, and the sight makes his own cock twitch hungrily. Eagerly, he motions with his hands for the other man to come closer.

“Good god, you were getting that hot and bothered and you didn’t fucking tell me?” Negan teases, as Javi stops in front of him by the bed. He wraps his fingers around the other man’s erection, giving him a few curious strokes. “Ever heard of sixty-nine, Javier? All you needed to do was ask.”

“Shut up,” Javier retorts. “You want to do something about it? Do it now.”

Negan hears the last word of that sentence die in Javi’s throat as he wraps an arm around the man’s waist and pulls him in close, sucking the tip of his cock right into his mouth. Javier is thick and full and almost a little much to take in, but Negan does so anyway. He hears the man curse above him in Spanish, and feels that hand on the back of his head. There are no complaints when those hips start rocking into his mouth.

Negan takes in as much as he can, before he pulls back off, flicking his tongue over the tip. “Spread your legs, Slugger.”

“Stop calling me that,” Javi grunts, but he does as he’s told.

“Why not? It suits you,” Negan replies with a shrug, spitting into his hand. “Think you can handle this without lube?”

Javi groans and glances down his own long torso to Negan. “ _Jesus_ , Negan…”

“What?” Negan laughs, slicking his fingers up. “It’s not like I walk around with this shit in my pocket.”

“Yeah..Yeah, I can handle it. Just…take your time or some shit. _Pendejo_.”

Javier’s accent leaks through the word and sends shivers all the way down Negan’s spine, eliciting a moan, which he stifles by sucking the other man’s cock right back into his mouth and sliding his fingers up between the cleft of his ass. As he takes more of Javi into his mouth, he presses a finger into his entrance.

Javier moans and places both hands on Negan’s head, before he climbs back onto the bed and takes a spot in front of his partner. Negan likes the leverage, and enjoys the way the younger man all but fucks his mouth where he’s got him. He tastes the pre-come as it oozes into his mouth, groans around the taste, and pushes in a second finger.

Soon enough, he’s got Javi melting in his grip. Fingers curling and pumping, Javi fucking into his mouth almost shamelessly…it’s fucking gorgeous. Negan chokes every now and then, but he doesn’t care. So long as he gets to hear that moaning and bilingual cursing, he’ll deepthroat all fucking day long.

But eventually, Javier is the one to break it off. He spits into his own hands and reaches down, coating Negan’s cock, before he grins almost impishly at the larger man.

“Make it _messy,_ ” He orders.

“Turn around, then,” Negan responds, licking his lips. “Get your face all buried in the mattress so you drool all over the place. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Javi apparently doesn't need more incentive than that, as he shifts off of Negan's lap and gets onto his elbows and knees next to him. Negan notices with a surge of arousal just how toned this man's thighs are as he puts himself on display fully.  
  
"Goddamn, Javier..." Negan grunts praisingly. "You're sculpted like you belong in a fucking museum..."  
  
"You like what you see, huh?" Javi teases, kneading at the blankets impatiently with his fingers. "Get to fucking, then. If not, I'll just jerk off and mess this bed my damn self."  
  
"I wouldn't mind seeing that," Negan comments with a facetious smirk. But when Javi starts to reach down between his legs, Negan snaps a hand out and catches his wrist. "AH-tut-tut-tut-tut, don't be so hasty. I still have a... _throbbing_ …hard-on that's itching to get all up in there."  
  
Javi glares at him over his shoulder. " _Dios mío_ , Negan, stop fucking talking and start fucking fucking. You're like a horny energizer bunny alarm clock that doesn't know what the snooze button means."  
  
Negan laughs. He finds he enjoys the way Javi bites back. It's a shame he and this guy will probably never meet again.   
  
Either way, he somewhat painfully shifts up to his knees and spits into his hand, slicking himself up again. He supposes Javi has a point, considering he's already dried off from when Javi got his dick wet a little while ago, but hey, he's getting to it now.  
  
He settles a hand on Javi's back, at the base of his spine, and guides his cock with his other hand to the man's entrance. He opens his mouth to speak, but a harsh glare from Javi shuts him up before he can say anything of value.  
  
So instead, he pushes inside. And goddamn, does it ever feel fucking good. Javi has this little wanton moment where he groans and pushes back as Negan goes forward, and for a second, it feels like Negan's fucking the stars and the solar system, heat and pleasure and friction crashing against him like meteor showers. He grits his teeth, sucks in a sharp breath, and then digs his nails into Javi's spine as be buries himself all the way in.  
  
Javier speaks more Spanish under pressure, Negan notices. It's in the raspiness of his tone and when he arches his back and says things like " _mierda_..." or " _sigue así_ " when Negan rocks his hips a certain way. He's learning very quickly that this guy is pretty goddamn vocal in bed, and hearing it in another language--being able to tell he's doing a good job without understanding so much as one syllable--it's fucking killing Negan in the best way possible.  
  
Javi has this low, deliberate voice that accents every word he says. The little " _Fuck_ …" that spills from his lips every now and then, followed by a moan or a grunt or a particularly shaky breath, has Negan getting just as much pleasure out of the sounds as the sex itself. His head is spinning, and before he realizes it, he's fucking harder, deeper, hips snapping and rocking and goddamn _grinding_ inside his partner's body with reckless abandon.  
  
And for once, Negan is beyond words. Thankfully, Javi has enough to express for the both of them.  
  
"You're so fucking hot," Negan finally manages.  
  
" _Fuck me_ ," Javi orders in response.   
  
Negan groans pleasantly and dips down to sink his teeth in his partner's shoulder blade. He fucks him pointedly, with rough thrusts aimed hard against Javi's sweet spot.   
  
It's when Negan sits back upright and Javi turns his head to glance at him over his shoulder, all flushed bright red with his mouth hanging open and a frown wracked with pleasure stretched out onto his lips, that the larger man loses his composure.  
  
"I'm gonna come..." Javi all-but _whimpers_ , and Negan can't stop himself at that point. He's pounding erratically into the other man's body, hips snapping almost violently forward over and over, as pleasure builds at the base of his spine and draws Javi's name up from the back of his throat.   
  
When Javi finishes, it's with this incredible tightness around Negan's cock. Negan pulls out just in time to spill his own release onto the futon's mattress, dragging his hand down to stroke each wave of his orgasm out.  
  
He swears he blacks out, because the next thing he knows, Javi is lying down, naked and spent, smirking and panting up at his partner.  
  
"My brother's gonna fucking hate us."  
  
\--- --- --- --- ---  
  
As it turns out, Negan doesn't get to meet this brother. When the late evening hours wash over the shack, his Saviors suddenly decide to show up. It's with significantly less chaos this time, and when Negan hobbles out to a truck with Javi's help, they part amicably. Negan licks his lips, smirks, and watches Javi roll his eyes.  
  
Negan thanks him, and then they bid one another goodbye. Negan recalls thinking as they drive off that he wished he'd gotten Javi's location out of him, but he also respects the guy's reasons for having not told him.  
  
He thinks he might come out to this lookout again one day, once he's got Rick and his little Asshole Brigade back in check.  
  
Running into Javi again is unlikely, but David, not so much. It'd be nice to see how he handled the surprise he was left with, too. And hell, maybe David will be willing to tip him off to where Javi comes from…


End file.
